


can't count the reasons i should stay

by FoxGlade



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, hiccup&toothless soulbond is definitely a thing, this is basically an exercise in AUs, vague references to asexual characters because fuck you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2014-07-22
Packaged: 2018-02-09 04:38:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1969356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxGlade/pseuds/FoxGlade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"We're leaving. So, pack up your stuff, it looks like you and me are taking a little vacation... forever."</p>
<p>Hiccup was never meant to stay on Berk. Eight different ways he could have left. A character study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	can't count the reasons i should stay

**Author's Note:**

> for anyone waiting on part two my other httyd fic, sorry! it'll definitely be published... sometime. its half-finished, but its being difficult.
> 
> each section is its own separate AU, so if you read them all as one story, you may get very confused. you can definitely, whole-heartedly blame shena for this, especially the last one.
> 
> warnings for blood, violence, and Hiccup dying a lot. spoilers for httyd2, some references to Riders of Berk. title from "At Least It Was Here" by the 88.

_Age Six Months_

The sight of an enormous, unfamiliar dragon sticking its head into the room where Hiccup sleeps is like a lightning bolt to Valka’s heart. She races up the slope, for once not caring if behind her, Vikings are maiming and killing dragons. For once, she feels as if she could maim and kill one herself.

But when she bursts into the house, fumbling for one of the swords on the wall, she abruptly freezes, eyes locked on the cradle where her babe lies.

A tiny black dragon, no bigger than a Terrible Terror (although it obviously isn’t one), sits on Hiccup’s swaddled lower half, staring down at the boy with impossible huge, bright green eyes. Its head is almost comically oversized, compared to its thin body, tiny wings and stubby tail, as are its rounded paws. It leans down and sniffs at Hiccup, who reaches up and strokes its nose with an astounding gentleness. He gives the dragon a gummy grin, and Valka gasps as the dragon opens its mouth to reveal a shockingly similar set of toothless gums. They smile at each other for another moment before the dragon squirms its way into the cradle, curling around Hiccup, to the boy’s delighted squeals.

A low chittering noise draws her eyes away from the two younglings in the cradle, and she finally sees the enormous dragon, watching over the scene like a doting father. The sword falls from her hand.

How could they be _so wrong_ about dragons? These dragons must have _emotions_ , must value their young as much as humans did… what else do they have in common? Almost without thought, she walks towards the large dragon, hand outstretched, not breaking contact with those yellow eyes. If she can just touch it…

“VALKA!” A battle axe falls between her hand and the dragon’s head, making it shriek and fall backwards. Stoick pushes her away. “Get Hiccup!” he roares, twirling the axe in his hand and moving in on the dragon again.

But it’s too late. The enormous dragon, startled and panicked, scoops the tiny black dragon up in its mouth and turns to flee. In that last moment, Valka sees a flash of white in its mouth – and remembers that the baby dragon had been curled tightly around her son.

“No!” she cries, flinging out a hand, hoping beyond reason that it will listen to her, that it will stay. But it’s already retreating, flying into the night on massive wings, taking her only child with it.

 

 

_Age Six_

When Hiccup is young, he is a tragic combination of curious, adventurous, and ignored by most everyone in the village.

He doesn’t mind the last one. He bears it with the eternal optimism of childhood, rationalising that it just means he gets to spend more time sneaking into Gobber’s forge, or searching for sea serpents in the ocean caves, or exploring the woods. Especially exploring the woods.

He does sometimes wish his father would ignore him a little less. But everyone knows that Dad is the Chief, which means he’s busy a lot, which means he doesn’t always have time left over to be your Dad, Hiccup. Gobber doesn’t ignore him nearly as much as anyone else. Sometimes he wonders about what it would like if Gobber was his Dad. Probably it would mean he wouldn’t get kicked out of the forge whenever Gobber caught him in there.

The only other people who don’t ignore him are Snotlout and Astrid, but Hiccup knows that Snotlout thinks he’s weird, and wouldn’t play with him if they weren’t cousins. Astrid is nicer, but she tends to get violent when they play, so he doesn’t play with her a lot.

Mostly he just spends time in the woods. He brings with him a little notebook that his Dad had gotten him on a raid, and marks down interesting trees and rocks and where he saw pretty birds. He wants to be a map-maker one day, but he doesn’t like ships. It doesn’t bother him – he’ll just invent a new way to get between islands. He wants to be an inventor too, but his Dad doesn’t like it when Hiccup tries to show him his scribbled ideas and plans, and Gobber always sighs when he asks if Gobber can build them, so map-making will have to do.

The woods are quiet today, and Hiccup’s a little upset, because he likes listening to the different bird calls. There are also weird marks on some of the trees, like a big animal has been digging into them. But the biggest animal on Berk are deer, and their antlers aren’t very sharp. His curiosity alight, Hiccup ventures further into the woods, following the trail of the scratch marks.

Eventually, he emerges into a clearing, where the grass is flat and the trees are black. He gasps, looking around. Had there been a _fire_? His dad had warned him about venturing off alone during fire weather, but it had rained only two nights ago. But maybe…

There’s a loud crack behind him. He spins, then gapes at the dragon towering over him. It’s gigantic compared to his short, skinny self, and in his mind it’s a towering beast, bigger than a mountain. In reality, it’s not even half-grown, and compared to the other Monstrous Nightmares that occasionally plague Berk, it’s something of a runt. But it’s injured from the raid last night, injured enough to hinder its flight, and its starving. It lowers its head to eye Hiccup, sniffing and growling. The human wouldn’t be much of a meal, but it would do for now.

As the dragon prepares to snap its jaws closed over the boy, a feeling of warmth flows through Hiccup’s mind; a product of a memory long forgotten. Something tells him that he shouldn’t be afraid of dragons, that he should reach out and touch it. Trembling, he silently stretches out a hand towards the Nightmare’s nose.

Three days later the search party finds Hiccup’s remains strewn about the clearing, blood-soaked pages of a notebook mixed with flesh and bone.

 

 

_Age Eight_

Even if he lived his life a hundred times, every time different, Hiccup would still be incapable of learning impulse control.

However, as he crouches in the belly of Trader Johann’s ship, clutching his knees to his chest and trying not to be sick as the waves rock the boat back and forth, he finds he _is_ capable of learning to think about consequences. For example: he now knows that the consequences of sneaking onto Trader Johann’s ship in the hopes of leaving Berk forever are, in fact, that he may quite possibly have left Berk forever.

He can hear Trader Johann humming, the sound coming close to where he’s hidden beneath a pile of ropes. He curls up tighter and buries his face in his knees, not even knowing if he wants to be discovered or not. If he isn’t, then he’ll escape at the next island, then… well, he doesn’t know what he’ll do then. But if he _is_ found, then Johann will certainly make him go back. Back to his Dad, back to _Snotlout_ , back to Snotlout saying those awful things that he doesn’t want to believe but he can’t _not_ believe-

The ropes are lifted off him and Johann’s concerned eyes meet his. “Young master Hiccup!” he exclaims. “How did you find your way onto my boat?”

Hiccup sniffs. “I’m leaving Berk forever,” he says thickly. Johann sighs and sits down properly, then leans his elbows on his knees.

“Now, why would you want to do a thing like that?” he asks. Tears spring to Hiccup’s eyes just thinking about it.

“My- my cousin Snotlout said, he told me,” he says, voice trembling, “he said that my dad had told his dad that he wishes he weren’t my dad!” And with that, he bursts into loud sobs.

Clearly out of his depth, Johann tentatively pats Hiccup’s hair as he tries to decode the child’s babble. “Er, I’m sure he was only teasing,” he says awkwardly. “Chief Stoick likes you very much, Hiccup!” It came out insincere despite his best efforts, but Hiccup didn’t seem to notice.

“I bet he w-wishes he were _Snotlout’s_ d-dad instead,” he huffs through his sobs. Johann sits in silence, just petting the boy’s hair until he calms. When he starts to frantically scrub the tears from his cheeks, Johann stands, pulling the boy with him.

“Come now, master Hiccup, I’ll turn the boat around and take you back to Berk. I bet your father is worried sick,” he adds gently. “And you know what, I have just the thing to cheer you up – a brand new notebook, specially picked for you from the mainland! I do believe I forgot to give it to Chief Stoick when I saw him yesterday.”

He hadn’t; Stoick had given it one look and told him that those things were only encouraging his son’s growing strangeness, and he’d have no need to barter for them from now on. Johann isn’t in the habit of giving gifts, but seeing young Hiccup’s tear-stained face light up is worth the monetary loss.

Once the boy had dug it out of the pile Johann directed him to, he sits with the book next to the rudder, flicking through the pages and murmuring. Johann glances out to the horizon, where his next port of call stands ominously. He spares a moment to mourn the time it would take to return Hiccup to Berk. “Say now, master Hiccup,” he says suddenly. “Were you planning to stay with me all the way to the mainland?”

Hiccup looks up. “No,” he replies. “I was going to sneak off wherever you next stopped.”

Johann gives a low whistle. “Well then. It’s a mighty good thing I found you, little one. My next stop is Outcast Island.” Hiccup gasps, eyes wide. “Not a very nice place to sneak away to! I shudder to think of what might have happened if you’d been let loose there!”

Hiccup nods frantically, suddenly very, very grateful that Johann had found him under the pile of ropes.

(He remains stubbornly grateful when Johann berths at the Berk docks and hands him over as Ruffnut and Tuffnut snigger at him from behind their mom. He forces himself to be grateful when his dad’s reaction to seeing him is a heavy sigh and a heavier hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t allow himself to be anything but grateful when he hides behind a barrel to listen to his dad talk to Johann and hears Stoick admit that he hadn’t even noticed that Hiccup was missing.)

 

 

_Age Twelve_

He grows older, and grows up. Snotlout has muscles now, and has taken to openly declaring how Stoick is going to choose him to be his heir any day now. Astrid rolls her eyes and hits him when he says it within her hearing range, but it’s half-hearted, and she never looks at Hiccup when she does it. It’s been a long time since she’s talked to Hiccup.

Fishlegs’ latest hobby is spouting memorised facts from the Book of Dragons, but he’s also shot upwards and outwards lately, which they’re all jealous of – he almost looks like a full-grown Viking. He looks like a Viking, so they ignore his intellectual habits. The same cannot be said for Hiccup.

They’re all hanging out on the docks; well, _they’re_ all hanging out on the docks. Hiccup is skulking on the edge of one of the boats, watching the waves crashing against the cliffs and ignoring what the others are saying.

“Look at his arms! He looks like he’s made out of string!” Snotlout yells, making Tuffnut snort. The twins are still short and thin, but unlike Hiccup, they’re wiry, and they’ve been earning a fierce reputation through fighting since they were born.

“I wonder if that means he’d float?” Ruffnut says thoughtfully.

“Nah, he’d probably sink. He’s useless at everything, including swimming, remember?”

“Yeah, stupid sister,” Tuffnut adds. Ruffnut pushes him off the dock, only for him to grab one of her braids and pull her in with him. Astrid finally puts down the axe she’d been sharpening and stands.

“C’mon, leave him alone,” she says, sounding bored. “He’s not worth it.”

It’s these words that make him snap. He’d grown used to the idea that everyone thought he was useless, _worthless_ , and by the point these opinions only make him more sure of himself, more desperate to prove himself. To hear it from the girl that he’s now kinda-sorta-maybe beginning to _like_ is too much.

“I can swim just fine!” he says, jumping from the ship railing to the wooden dock. Fishlegs looks up from his book, Astrid gives him something that might be a smile, and Snotlout looks him up and down with a sneer. In the water, Ruffnut and Tuffnut fight on, oblivious.

“Really? Because you look like you can’t,” Snotlout challenges. He glances out to sea and points at one of the sea stacks, a little less than a hundred metres out. “I mean, if you _could_ , then you’d be able to swim there and back, wouldn’t you?”

“Well, I can!” Hiccup shoots back. He knows he can’t swim that far, let alone that far and back again, let alone in the choppy waters of the ocean, but the logical part of his brain is silenced by the part that tells him he _has_ to do this, _right now_. So instead of backing off, he says, “Just watch!” and dives into the water.

It’s freezing, and the furry boots and vest he didn’t think to shed are weighing him down, but he just kicks them off and swims onwards. Dad will be _furious_ – but Dad will be proud that he swam so far, that he proved himself strong – but he won’t be proud that Hiccup _couldn’t_ swim that far, because he can’t, he’s already tired and he’s barely halfway – but imagine the look on his face when he hears that Hiccup the Useless, Hiccup the Fishbone finally did something worth being proud of – but he _can’t_ imagine, because he’s never done anything to be proud, his head is slipping underwater and a wave breaks over him and he chokes on salt and it’s so dark –

His head breaks the surface and he flails his arms underwater, treading desperately. The sea stack is metres away, but he couldn’t move if he tried, his limbs numb with cold and all his energy devoted to just keeping afloat. The waves are pushing him back and forth, but he can catch glimpses of the others on the dock. Snotlout is laughing. Fishlegs is twisting his hands together. The twins are shouting at each other.

And Astrid is shrugging off the armoured shoulder pads she’d been so proud to receive on her tenth birthday, shoving her axe into Fishlegs’ hands, and jumping into the water.

Astrid will save him. It’s okay that he didn’t manage to swim that far, because he’ll still be alive, and that means he’ll have more chances to prove himself. Astrid will save him. He slips under the water again, then comes up gasping and coughing. Astrid will save him. It’ll be like the stories they used to make up together, where the warrior queen would rescue the hapless apprentice, and he’ll live. Astrid will save him.

In the disorientation of the rough waves, he hadn’t noticed when he’d been swept past the sea stack. And he didn’t notice when another wave sent him crashing into it, head cracking against the sharp rock even as he watched Astrid swim closer.

Astrid doesn’t save him.

 

 

_Age Fifteen_

“What are you going to do?” Astrid asks.

“I’m going to put an end to this,” Hiccup replies. He looks back at her and almost tells her his plan. He almost tells her that she looks beautiful. Instead, he tells her, “Goodbye, Astrid.”

Her eyes widen. “Hiccup-” she starts to say, but then Gobber is ushering him into the arena, and the gate has slammed shut behind him. Above the cage door he can see his father presiding, expression stern, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Stoick’s face as he grabs the first shield and weapon that he can lift. The helmet his father had gifted him with is lying on his bed, back in the room that he’ll never see again, and he tries not to think about how different his father had looked when he’d presented Hiccup with it.

“I’m ready,” he calls, and the gears start to crank on the Nightmare’s cage. Shield held in front of his face, he waits.

The Nightmare bursts from the thick doors coated in flames, ignoring him to race around the arena, searching for an exit. It starts to extinguish as it jumps onto the chains reaching over the ring, and by the time it thinks to look at Hiccup, its fire has gone out. Its eyes bore into him, and Hiccup feels his stomach lurch when he recognises the intelligence behind its slanted yellow eyes. The shield and knife drop from his hands.

“Now, Toothless!” he yells, and a piercing whistle is all the warning the Vikings in the stands have before a Night Fury blasts through the bars of the Kill Ring.

The fireblast scorches the stone floor of the ring, but the Vikings have a clear view as the Nightmare drops from the chains, shrieking at the Night Fury, who stands hunched in front of Hiccup. The black dragon shoots again and again at the edges of the arena, until the chains drop and the arena is open to the sky. The Nightmare takes off instantly, dodging weapons thrown by the few Vikings not too stunned to react.

Hiccup doesn’t see any of this; he’s frantically cranking the handles of the other doors, freeing the other dragons as quickly as possible. Vikings start to jump into the arena, and Toothless shuffles closer to Hiccup, snarling at any who dare come close, shooting concentrated blasts at their feet. The Gronckle bursts free of its cage, humming and zipping straight upwards, followed quickly by the Terrible Terror, who shrieks at the Vikings surrounding it and sprays white-hot flames at them before escaping into the sky.

Over the din of both dragon and Viking roars, Hiccup hears Stoick’s voice ordering for people to get clear of the Kill Ring and man the catapults to bring down the fleeing dragons. Toothless fires another bolt of flame with a shrieking whistle, and Hiccup prays that he’s still purposely missing. A cloud of green gas rolls out into the arena when he opens the Zippleback’s doors, and it’s only when he hears a clicking noise that he realises he’s in the middle of it.

“Toothless!” he calls frantically, and a second later he’s being pushed to the ground, shielded by black wings as the gas is ignited around them. Several Vikings cry out in pain but he doesn’t allow himself to think about it – just ducks out from under his dragon’s wings and uses the distraction to unlock the final cage. The Nadder eyes him and chatters when it’s freed, rustling its spikes before launching itself into the air after the Zippleback. It cries out as an expertly thrown axe slices along its side, but it keeps flying.

And then the only dragon in the ring is Toothless, and the Vikings are turning their full attention to him, and thus Hiccup. Stoick pushes his way through the crowd, hefting his massive battle-axe in one hand. He opens his mouth to say something, and for a moment he looks almost lost as he meets Hiccup’s eyes. But then his features harden and he hefts the battle-axe threateningly.

“Be gone from here, Outcast,” he snarls. “You’ve chosen your side.”

There’s a great tearing pain in Hiccup’s heart, to see his father look at him with such loathing, but it’s eased slightly by the outraged roar from the dragon beside him. Swiftly, he springs onto Toothless’ back, not looking away from Stoick.

“Yes,” he says simply, “I have.” He and Toothless crouch as one and then shoot upwards. He doesn’t look back, and he tells himself that it’s the freezing wind rushing at his face making tears spring to his eyes.

 

 

_Age Eighteen_

It’s been three weeks since they’ve set foot on Berk, and he’d promised Astrid that they’d be back within two. As it stands, Hiccup and Toothless have been watching inland villages and farms disappear beneath them for a day, marveling at the strangeness of the massive island that can only be the Britain that Trader Johann had described occasionally.

Since leaving Berk they’d fallen into the habit of sleeping through the warmest part of the day, rising at mid-afternoon and flying through the night, then finding a protected spot to settle at sunrise. It was a shock to Hiccup’s mostly diurnal nature, but it was good to finally give Toothless back his natural nocturnal sleeping patterns after years of the dragon sleeping on a human schedule.

From their place just below the clouds, Hiccup squints into the first rays of dawning sunshine. “What do you say, bud? Wanna find a place to sleep?” he says, rubbing a hand under Toothless’ ear. Casting his eye around, Hiccup quickly spots a clearing in the thick forest below. He nudges his knee against Toothless’ side and crouches low over his neck, pointing at the rapidly approaching spot, and then they’re diving out of the sky to land softly on the forest floor.

Hiccup slips off Toothless’ back, scratching him under the chin for a few moments. “No fire tonight,” he tells Toothless, speaking quietly on instinct. “There’s another village a few miles from here, we don’t want them to see the smoke.”

Toothless warbles and twists to nudge the side of Hiccup’s head, as if to say, _I saw them too, you know._ Hiccup grins. He’s never sure of just how much Toothless understands him – most of the time he’s content to think that the dragon understands him just as much as Hiccup understands _him_. Most of Toothless’ communication is body language anyway, and Astrid is always telling him how expressive Hiccup’s own face is. Words aren’t really necessary for understanding each other, he thinks as he regretfully looks over the saddle rig.

“You should probably keep that on too, in case we need to get out of here quickly,” he adds apologetically. Toothless huffs, but settles down anyway. Hiccup always feels guilty making the dragon sleep with the mass of leather and wires on his body, despite Toothless’ apparent lack of discomfort.

They’d hunted yesterday at dusk, as per their regular schedule, but after a day of flying Hiccup’s stomach is growling at him like an irate Terrible Terror. Toothless doesn’t seem to have the same problem, given how he’s already curled up and breathing evenly, so Hiccup stretches a bit and wanders away, hoping to find a hare slow enough for him to catch; maybe even a stream to fish in.

Fifteen minutes later the sun has risen in earnest, and he’s starting to think that he may as well just go back and try to sleep through the hunger. He straightens from his crouch and looks around, frowning as he realises that he has no idea where he is. He can’t be _too_ far from Toothless, but trying to find his way back could just result in getting even more lost. Thanking his fifteen year old self for having the foresight to learn how to call for Toothless, he raises his hands and takes a deep breath –

Only to hear an outraged, panicked shriek echo through the trees.

“Toothless!” he yells, and starts to run, numb to the stinging branches whipping at his face and oblivious to the creeping shrubs grabbing at his prosthetic. Excited, _human_ shouts join Toothless’ roars and he puts on a burst of speed. He squints through the trees, and finally sees a flickering light that must be fire carried by the humans he can hear. Toothless shrieks again as he crashes into the clearing.

There must be a dozen humans at least, none of them built like Vikings but all carrying weapons, or wielding farm equipment _like_ weapons – he sees a man with a pitchfork make a stabbing motion towards Toothless, who’s covered in rope but not held down by it, tail lashing back and forth, wings lifted threateningly, lips lifted back and snarling at the men surrounding him. He sees this all in a flash, and then Toothless sees _him_ – the dragon spins to face him and screams something that sounds amazingly like the word _RUN!_

One of the men yells something in a foreign language, pointing at him, and then hefts his spear, aiming for a spot on Toothless left side.

Hiccup does the only thing he can do. He lunges at the man with a dragon-like cry –

The spear buries itself in Toothless, and Hiccup falls. He feels warm, wet scales beneath his hand and a stabbing, tearing pain in his chest, hears an unfamiliar-yet- _so_ -familiar voice say his name, and then –

 

(“I didn’t touch him!” the man with the spear argues as the leader prods the strange boy’s body. It’s as dead as the beast it lies half on top of. “He just dropped when the demon did!”

Certainly he can’t see any wounds on the boy, and the only blood on the ground is the green blood of the beast. “The demon was probably controlling him,” he says reasonably. “We’ll burn the both of them. Maybe that will teach the devils that the Lord is protecting our village.”)

 

 

_Age Twenty-One_

The Chief of Berk is hiding in his own home, lying stretched out by the fire with his back propped against the only living Night Fury. These days, he seems to be hiding more often than not – either in his home, in the forge, or in the sky with his dragon. The front door squeals as it opens and he winces.

“Oh, there you are,” Astrid says, sounding almost as exhausted as Hiccup feels. “Gobber was looking for you. Have you even left the house today?”

“No,” he admits. Astrid moves to sit beside him, scratching Toothless behind the ear before relaxing against his side. They sit in silence for a while, the only sounds being Toothless’ even breathing and the listless scratching of Hiccup’s charcoal stick on parchment. He looks down at the notebook in his hands and sighs, rubbing out a line and redrawing it smoother. A hand reaches out to his, plucking the stick of charcoal out of his fingers as another hand closes the notebook. When he looks up, Astrid is gazing at him with furrowed brows, concern written in the lines of her face.

“Hiccup,” she says, not unkindly, “I think you need to leave.”

He’s so shocked that he can’t even reply; he just stares at her, mouth gaping. Toothless lifts his head from his paws and examines the two of them, making a curious warbling noise. Astrid leans over to stroke his nose and continues,

“You’re a good Chief, Hiccup. But everyone can see how being Chief isn’t good for _you_. It’s like…” She searches for words. “It’s like watching a newly-injured dragon. When they can’t fly, they start to pine and fade away. Your mom says you’ve got the soul of a dragon, so maybe you react the same way to being tied down. It scares me, Hiccup.”

Hiccup stays silent. Astrid sighs, and reaches up to start a new braid in his hair. The ring he’d forged and given her months ago glints in the firelight. “I told you a while ago that what you were searching wasn’t out there. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you _should_ be out there, looking for whatever it is you need.”

“I can’t leave my people,” Hiccup mumbles finally. Toothless croons and huffs a breath against his hair.

“Appoint me as Chief in your absence,” Astrid says. “I’m already doing your duties for you while you stay in here. And don’t feel guilty about that,” she adds sharply when he makes a guilty expression.

“You’d make a good Chief,” he agrees, some of the melancholy that’s been present in his voice for months finally dissipating. She smiles, trying off the braid and kissing his cheek swiftly.

“And you make a good explorer,” she says. “You should probably get back to it.”

She sits with him against Toothless’ side until Valka arrives, bringing a flagon of stew for Hiccup provided by a concerned villager. She also brings a basket of fish for Toothless, who apparently hasn’t left Hiccup’s side all day, not even to find food. Hiccup looks distraught at how quickly his friend laps up the food, betraying how hungry he’d been, and doesn’t smile until Toothless covers his face in fish-scented saliva with a few rapid licks.

Later, when Valka has retired, Astrid follows the two boys up the stairs and closes the door of the bedroom behind her, just watching as Toothless circles on his stone bed and Hiccup sits next to him. He looks up when he detaches his prosthetic leg and jumps.

“Astrid! What are, uh, what are you doing?” he says nervously. She brushes her hair out of her eyes and tries not to blush.

“Well, if you _are_ leaving, I thought we could... well, that I could spend the night,” she replies, striving for a casual tone. Hiccup looks at her with unbridled panic.

“You don’t mean-“

“No! Definitely not that!” They’ve slept together a few times, over the years, in the literal sense of the phrase. She knows that having… _relations_ before marriage isn’t exactly uncommon, but Hiccup’s never asked for it, and she’s certainly never wanted it. She thinks she’ll be disappointed when they’re married and expected to do more than that in bed, but she’s pretty sure Hiccup feels the same way, so it’ll probably work out.

“Okay. Good. Okay,” he says, and Astrid has to laugh at the relief in his voice. “But, uh, I’ve kind of been sleeping here with Toothless for the past few days. Weeks,” he continues, gesturing to the rock slab he’s sitting on. Toothless opens a single green eye and yawns at him, lifting a wing in obvious invitation. Astrid rolls her eyes and crouches in front of the dragon.

“Toothless,” she says formally, “could I borrow Hiccup for the night?” Toothless looks her over, warbles what she can only assume is something along the lines of “Go right ahead”, then closes his eyes and lowers his wing.

Hiccup’s bed is still the same one he’s had since he was young, apart from the extension he’d put on the end during his last growth spurt, but it’s just large enough for he and Astrid to both lie comfortably on their sides. The sound of Toothless’ slow, even breaths fill the room, and Astrid wonders if sleeping under his wing, as Hiccup does so often, is as nice as sleeping with Hiccup’s arm around her waist, face pressed into her hair, knees nudged into the backs of her own. As she drifts off, she thinks that she never wants to sleep anywhere else.

At midday the next day, Astrid is appointed Chief of Berk, and Hiccup bids them all farewell. He hugs Valka, allows Gobber to pick him up in a crushing embrace, then kisses Astrid, mindless of the crowd. Then he jumps onto Toothless’ back and, looking happier than she’s seen him since Stoick died, the two of them launch into the sky as one.

She stands on the cliff and watches them until they’re out of sight, wind picking at her braid, sunlight glinting off the ring on her finger, trying not to think of how Hiccup had never specified when or even if he’d return.

 

 

_Age Seventy-Three_

Berk will never be classified as a bustling hub of activity, but the main village is busy enough at mid-morning that Rufflout has to step quickly to avoid running into anyone. The village weaver has given her the day off work, and she plans to take great advantage of the fact. Having already slept in long past when she’d normally have to be awake, her skin itches to go on a long flight on Horrowcow, the kind she hasn’t had time for in months. Her dad tells her that she’s inherited Grandpa Hiccup’s love of flying, and has warned her that if she ever tries any of the crazy stunts Hiccup’s famous for, he’ll give her hide to the tanners to make saddles from. When she relayed this to Hiccup, he’d laughed and promised to sneak her the designs for the wings he’d built himself.

“I got tired of waiting for them to grow in,” he’d said with a wink.

“Grandpaaaaa, you’re not a dragon!” she’d groaned. He’d just laughed his dragon-ish laugh as if to prove her wrong, and then Grandma Astrid had come into the room and teasingly asked where Toothless was, since she’d just heard him laughing. She’d made the same joke every time Hiccup laughed, Rufflout remembers, and suddenly misses her fiercely.

Grandpa Hiccup is the only thing standing between her and Horrorcow right now, actually. He’s old now, older than anyone in the village besides the Elder, but he usually makes a point to be outside early in the morning. Sometimes he visits the dragon nests, talking to them and examining their buildings for faults. Sometimes he wanders the village and listens to his people. Rufflout’s dad had told her that technically, Hiccup had only been Chief for a season or two before handing the title to Grandma Astrid; Astrid Axe-Maiden, as she’d been known. But the people respect him, and still call him Dragon Chief, no matter how much he complains.

In any case, he’s invariably walking the village in the early morning, Toothless faithfully at his side, providing a support whenever needed. Today, when there’s been no sight of him all day, Rufflout’s been nominated to check if he’s okay.

_Of course he’s okay_ , Rufflout scoffs to herself as she makes her way to the small house at the bottom of the hill. _He’s Grandpa Hiccup, Hiccup Dragon-Heart!_ Still, she can’t help but worry. The last time he hadn’t been seen before midday, Toothless had eventually run from the house to the main square and wailed until someone followed him back to where Hiccup lay, unconscious with high fever. She shakes her head to clear the morbid thoughts beginning to overwhelm her and knocks on the door, listening carefully before letting herself in.

The house is quiet. It gives the small home an eerie feel – she’s used to hearing a crackling fire, the sounds of a fairly large dragon prancing around and knocking over objects, Grandpa Hiccup humming or laughing or imitating Toothless’ warbles. Instead, there’s only the whistling of wind through wood, and the creaking of boards beneath her feet. “Grandpa?” she calls, closing the door behind her. “It’s Rufflout. Are you there?”

Nothing. Steeling herself against her own growing unease, she wanders past the main room, looking into the kitchen and seeing nothing, then continuing to the bedroom at the back of the house. The door is closed. She hesitates, then knocks loudly three times. There’s no answer – not even Toothless’ heavy breathing. She opens the door.

They lie on the low wooden bed, Grandpa Hiccup under a thick blanket, Toothless curled around him, almost obscuring him completely with a wing. Rufflout can’t see either of their chests, but even from her position in the doorway, she can tell that they’re not breathing. Tears spring to her eyes, and she runs from the room before they can fall.

When she arrives at the forge, breathless and sobbing, she can hardly get the words out to inform her father that Grandpa Hiccup and Toothless are both dead in their sleep. Her dad sighs heavily, wiping a hand over his face, and hangs up his apron before squeezing her shoulder.

“I’m sorry you had to be the one to find them,” he says, then pauses. “You said Toothless is gone too?” Rufflout nods, sniffing. “Alright. Go fetch your aunts, tell them what’s happened. I’ll inform the village.”

They send the both of them out that night, the entire village crowded onto the docks to see them off to Valhalla. They’re placed in the boat how they’d been found that morning; side by side, Toothless’ wing stretched over Hiccup’s body.

“It’s what they would have wanted,” Aunt Valla sniffs.

When the boat is far enough out to sea, Rufflout, her father, and her aunts all raise their flaming arrows, aim, and fire. Through blurred vision, Rufflout see that her aim is true, and fire begins to engulf the boat.

“It seems right, that they’d go together,” she hears her father say softly.

“It would have been cruel for Toothless to live after Dad was gone,” Aunt Valla murmurs back. “I don’t know how he died – it couldn’t’ve been old age like Dad. But I’m glad they went together.”

Watching the flames flicker higher on the water, Rufflout cries silently, but she feels the same gladness despite her grief. It was right for them to go together, to be the first human-dragon pair to share a funeral boat.

Later there will be feasting, and celebration of the lives of Berk’s greatest heroes, and laughter and music and dancing. But for now there’s silence, and the sight of the burning boat, growing more distant by the second, sending smoke and spirits up to the sky.


End file.
